But it did not look so very inviting when the boat came nearer. Beyond the arch the air was full of curling mists and vapors, like those which Eva had seen at the foot of the precipice, and through these mists and vapors she caught dim glimpses of the same old hateful faces she had seen so often before. Just before the boat reached the arch, one of the six trout, putting his head above the water, said to her: “Stop the boat.” “How can I?” Eva asked, in surprise. “Speak to her; she will obey you.” And, to Eva’s great astonishment, as soon as the words, spoken very doubtingly, “Little boat, wait,” passed her lips, the little vessel stopped, and lay without moving on the water. Then the same trout which had spoken to her previously put his head again out of the water and said: “Before we go on, among the mists and vapors which lie beyond the cavern, it is well to tell you to be prepared. You must be on your guard, for THEY who dwell on the margin of the Brook of Mists will do everything in their power to prevent your reaching the Enchanted River. You will have to be careful, not only for yourself but for us, and no matter what they whom we meet may ask you to do, you must refuse, however trifling it may seem. Beyond the cavern we have no power to warn you; you must judge for yourself.” More than this, the trout went on, they were not permitted to say to her. So Eva thanked them, and promised to remember what they had told her; and then she told the little boat to go on, and once more the little vessel glided forward with each trout in its own place. They proceeded slowly; the curling mists and vapors always before them,--and, as Eva noticed, always behind them, although they were never close to the boat,--just as if she carried a free space along with her, and that the mists were not allowed to come within a certain distance of her. So, for a time, they went quietly down the brook. And Eva, seeing that nothing happened, began to wonder why the trout had told her to be careful; and she was looking over the side of the boat at her own face reflected in the clear water, in which not a fish was to be seen, except those with her, when suddenly the boat began to rock to and fro, as she never had done before; and when Eva turned round to ascertain the cause of this rocking, there, perched on the side of the boat, was a great black jackdaw. But, oh! what a very queer-looking jackdaw he was, to be sure! Every here and there he had peacock feathers stuck in among his plumage, and it was easy to see that they were only put in for show. It was as much as Eva could do to keep from laughing when she looked at him. “Caw! caw!” cried the jackdaw, with his head to one side, just as if he thought himself the finest bird in the world. “I am hungry, little girl, for I have flown a long way to-day, and I want to know if you won’t give me something to eat.” “I would, with pleasure,” Eva said, “if I had any corn with me, for that is what jackdaws eat.”